Wandering in Winter : Part one
by WithMyRazorAsMyPen
Summary: Christina Angus is the upcoming star in the Musical production, The Phantom of the Opera.. everything is going fine utill she starts having odd encounters, what she thinks are dreams.. maybe the phantom inst just a story after all? suck as sums...RR!


Christina Armstrong leaned back against the stage wall, a bored expression on her face. She was supposed to be rehearsing her lines for the upcoming musical they were doing, The Phantom of the Opera to be precise. She had gotten up at 5; 00 just to get her on time, and yet her partners are no where to be found. 'I could always start without them'. Sighing she pulled out her bundle of paper, flipping threw till she reached Christine's solo at the grave yard, "Wishing You ". Clearing her throat she took center stage, trying to imagine the entire stage set up for the scene. Closing her eyes she began:

"You were once  
my one companion . . .  
you were all  
that mattered . . .  
You were once  
a friend and father -  
then my world  
was shattered . . .

Wishing you were  
somehow here again . . .  
wishing you were  
somehow near . . .  
Sometimes it seemed  
if I just dreamed,  
somehow you would  
be here . . ."

She stopped, she had heard something. She listened hard and blinked in confusion. No it couldn't be, not at this time of day. A violin? She walked towards the distant sound, stepping out into the hall looking for the source. It seemed to be at the end of the hallway. Frowning she hurried towards it, wanting to make sure she was going insane, also wanting to know who he person was just incase something horrid happened.  
She had reached the last door. It was slightly ajar letting a small stream of light flood out into the dark hallway. The music was coming from within. She listened amazed at the perfection echoing in each note; this person must be a professional. Suddenly the song switched, playing a softer sweeter tune. It was the same song Christina had been singing moments earlier. Except this one went higher in some parts, and then spiraled down at others…this was the song the Phantom had hypnotized Christine with. As she listened she became lost in the beauty of it, and slipped her eyes closed, letting the magic of that song surround her. Suddenly it stopped. Shaking herself out of her trance, she emerged form the dream like pose and pushed open the door. No one was inside. Gaping she rushed in flicking on the lights as she went. The room was empty! There was a chair sitting in the middle of the room, nothing else around it. She stepped over to it and laved her hand on the seat. It was warm. Drawing back she turned out the light, and hurried back to the stage, where the lights were bright and the space for running large.

Two hours later, Christy sang for the fifth time:

"In sleep he sang to me,  
in dreams he came  
that voice which calls to me  
and speaks my name

and do I dream again?  
For now I find  
the Phantom of the Opera is there -  
inside my mi..."

"NO! Nonono!" the shrill voice of Madame Avtui interrupted her song. Hissing softly Cry turned to the plump women and asked clearly irritated'  
"What now!"  
"You did not go high enough in the last stanza. You should have gone higher on th..." '  
"WHAT? That run was perfect!" The brisk Scottish rumble of William Angus interrupted the elderly ladies words.  
The women turned, fixing her beady eyes on the ruff looking Scott, with his unruly red hair, dark touch skin, his large yet graceful body, but mist of all, to her displeasure, the large cross symbol burned into his hand, which at the moment was waving the script papers afore him like a mad man. She straightened to her full height (4'1) and placed her knarled hands on her broad hips.  
"And what 'sir'" she spat, "Would you know about pitch, or the right way to emphasize the words, or hold them out? The only thing YOU know about is prancing across the stage, singing the words marked into you tiny brain." She sneered and turned back to Cry.  
"And you!" she thrust a claw into the young divas face," You. I'm done with you today. Go and practice, your HORRIBLE!" With a toss of her cheap wig she turned and waddled away.  
Christina stood there and blinked, and then her brown eyes narrowed coldly. Turning on her heel she marched back to the dressing room cursing those wretched women all the way.  
"How dare she! HORRIBLE! The little bi.."  
"Ahem..."  
She turned to see William standing in the doorway.  
"…bitty…" she finished lamely. Sighing she plopped down in the tattered couch, hands rubbing her temples. She heard a low chuckle and felt the weight of the couch shift and she giggled as she slid sideways, over to the burly man. He was like her brother, been there since she was 14, and helped her on her way. Now they were working together in the upcoming play, she as Christine, and he as the phantom. His hair was to be dies black for the performance, and despite his harsh accent he sang literally like an angel. Sighing again she leaned against him, poking him lightly I his shoulder.  
"Nerves getting to ye lass?"  
"Aye, I guess..."  
"I thought you were all hyped to do this part? Why so nervous?" she felt him shift as he moved at her. She looked up, her eyes meeting the sparkling green orbs her fellow musician.  
She wrinkled her nose and said with a huff.  
" Aye, ive wanted this since I was a child, and yes I know all the lines and am excited, but I guess the thought of screwing up just Erm.." she trailed off.  
"Yea I know.' He patted her arm gently. "Trust me lass you'll do fine, I promise." He grinned and heaved to get up. "If better be going, Bell expects me back." He rolled his eys and pulled on his jacket. Cry smiled and threw a small bag of candies at Will's head.  
"For Bella,' she said, "Gove her me love..." she watched as he turned to leave.  
"Also' she called after him," Thankye for the advice. You're a good friend, and brother."  
He looked back and nodded, then disappeared into the empty theater, he going home to be with the one he loved, her staying in the theater, alone with no where to go…at the moment.  
She sighed and pulls out her night cloths. Slipping behind the screen she pulled off her day pants and tee then dragged on the black tank and small shorts. Pulling out the flannel blanket and flipping off the light, making sure the door was locked, she layer down, the day events playing in her head. Just as she was drifting off to sleep she heard a faint noise. Her eyes snapped open and her heart began to race.

"Wandering child so lost so helpless..."

Cry slowly stood up, the blanket pooling falling to the floor. Who could be here at this time of night...evryone had left.

"..Yearning for my guidance..."

She opened the door, the music now becoming louder. Frowning she grabbed one of the prop canes leaning against the dresser, the one MM, Firmin would hold in act three, and walked slowly out the door. Shoving her mussed main of hair behind her shoulders she listened for the haunting tune. All she received was silence. 'That's strange. Why would it...' suddenly she relised that Christine sang here. Maybe the voice wanted her to …no that's just stupid. But maybe... feeling like an idiot Christina sang out;

"Angel . . . or father . . .friend . . . or  
Phantom . . . ?  
Who is it there, staring . . . ?"

The voice began again, the hypnotic sounds ringing from a room down the hall.

"Have you forgotten your angel?"

As is sang golf light flooded out from the crack, and the door creaked open. Confused Cry stepped back. 'Wait..that Williams room!' could the strange voice be just Will playing a trick on here? No…this voice was accented, not by a Scottish one, but elegant..perhaps English. And the words were refined, and seemed to flow..who was it? Hypnotized she walked forward singing her part like before.

"Angel oh speak what endless longing,  
Echo in this whisper!"

She walked faster as the voice sang.

"To long you've wandered in winter,  
Far from my far-reaching gaze..."

Her turn. "Wildly my mind beats against you!" she had reached the door.

"You resist…"

Then as she pushed open the door there voices melted together...

"Yet the/yoursoul obeys!"

Her eyes widened as she stared into the room. Millions of candles were lit, places all around, lined up in front of the huge mirror, tilted onthe desk, perched on shelves. This wasn't Wills room; she had forgotten he had moved for this one had drafts. Feeling faint she sank into the chair, not noticing the door shut fast behind her. As she drank in the sight of the candle lit room, now serving as a music lair, the voice sang on;

"Angel of Music! You denied me,  
turning from true beauty . . .  
Angel of Music! Do not shun me . . .  
Come to your strange  
Angel …"

That when she noticed the piano and the large organ used for rehearsing had been moved to the center of the large room. Hundreds of yellowed papers were spread all across the top of both instruments, music sheets, song sheets...evrything. She gaped and moved forward, thinking in her delirium that the owner of the voice must be seated at one of them. Her hand brushed against the smooth top as she leaned to peak over the edge of the piano. No one sat at either of them. Frowning again she whispered her part;

"Angel of music I denied you!  
Turning from true beauty . . .  
Angel of Music! My Protector!  
Come to me, strange  
Angel . . ."

She stopped as she felt a cold draft on the back of her arms and legs, sending chill bumps all across her body. She stiffened feeling another presence in the room. The room grew darker, and her grip on the can tightened. She could feel IT behind her, and she raised her hand ready to swing. She stopped dead as ice cold fingers brushed against her neck, hissing in her ear;  
"I am your angel of music…come to me angel of music..."  
Turning slowly, she looked at the owner of the voice, and the last thing she saw before darkness was a white mask gleaming in the candle light.

* * *

When Christina awoke the next morning, she was back on the dressing room couch, the blanket over her. Sitting up she rubbed her head, trying to rid it of the cobwebs. Sighing she got up, ready to perform today.  
As she began to put on the make up required for her part, dancers, singers and extras all began to file in. She gently smoothed on the light cream, applied the mascara and smiled at her work. Plopping down on her couch she closed her eyes, trying to sort out the bizarre dream she had last night…candles... voices…a mask? What did I see... her thought were interrupted by a shrill scream. Her eyes snapped open and she jumped up. The screaming continued. She dashed out of the dressing room, running head long into Will. They looked at each other then dashed after the cries, followed and following other people. When they reached the person who was screaming, she was surrounded by a thick mob, all starring at one thing. Will shoved a path threw, followed carefully by Cry. She paled when she saw it. She gaped down at the twisted corpse of Madame Avtui, murdered in cold blood.


End file.
